Extreme Footsies
by twowritehands
Summary: The team is back together, but everyone kinda has their own stuff to deal with. Ariadne/Yusuf Arthur/Eames Cobb/Saito


_So. This is the very first Arthur/Eames or Ariadne/Yusuf I've ever written. (I've at least read Arthur/Eames.) I hope I didn't mess it up. _

_BTW, thanks for the reviews!. The things mentioned in the first review to this story that was left on this site (not LJ) have been fixed. But I have a busy life with college, work, and a novel to write, so I don't have time to slowly read through +12 words to catch every single grammatical mistake I make.__ If you come across a mistake (and hey I'm human so there ARE more), make a note and tell me about it, but please, please, please continue on and finish the story, and, in your review, let me know what you think of it, how it made you feel, if it moved you or not. THAT IS WHY I WRITE AND IT IS WHY YOU READ. No one really cares about grammar, they want to smile and cry and get tingles. You'll miss out on a lot of fun things in life if you abandon things JUST because they aren't perfect._

_././././._

Yusuf smelled liked the usual toxic chemicals; klenomasopine and tyzamin, if Ariadne was not mistaken. She'd started to pick up on the ingredients to her boyfriend's work/passion simply by paying attention to his excited rambles as he was near a break-through. Returning his squeeze, she wrinkled her nose against the smell clinging to his clothes and pulled away, tugged at the lapels of his jacket so that he would know she wasn't going because she didn't want to hold him.

"You need a shower," she grinned up at him.

His dark eyes were heavy, and he sighed with thick shoulders drooping, "Yes, please."

"Bad day?"

"Bloody worst," he answered, turning and heading down the hall, striping his clothes. "First there was a shoplifter and Kiano didn't manage to catch him; little bugger made off with _eight_ bottles in his bag, some of my best stuff! And then a cat was sick under my desk, and..." he dropped his head into his hands, rubbed his face without breaking stride, "_then_ one of the Dreamers had a seizure and died right there in my room. She developed a bad reaction due to prolonged exposure to-" He stopped when Ariadne caught him from behind, gave him another squeeze, "I'm so sorry. Who was it?"

"Aluna, 39 years old, three sons," he answered. Yusuf knew the names and details of every Dreamer in his shop. While she loved it about him, Ariadne sometimes wished he didn't care like that so much because times like these broke his heart from knowing his clients as people.

His shoulder blade moved up and down under her cheek and his ribs expanded in her arms as he drew another deep breath, "I swore it wouldn't happen again."

"I know, but it wasn't your fault. Prolonged exposure, you said. You couldn't know her body would reject it." The acrid smell of chemicals stung her nose but she ignored it, gave the man in her arms more squeezes.

Yusuf pulled out of her arms and went into the bathroom, shut the door. She went to it, talking with her face near the crack so she could be heard. "She was _addicted_. It was her choice to keep using. I know you told her the risks."

The shower started and Ariadne abandoned the attempt to soothe him for now. Aimless, she turned from the bathroom and looked around their apartment. It was small and they were failing at keeping it tidy, but it was home. A black and white cat leapt up onto the window sill and mewed at her. She went over and scratched him on the ears, looked down into the crowded streets of Mombasa.

She could see the front door of Yusuf's shop, the cracked steps and the Closed sign in the door in both English and Kenyan. She saw the basement entrance beside it, locked up tight and looking no different than an ordinary street-entrance basement door. But she knew behind that one there were twenty people living in a dream with old Mr. Gintonga down there, watching over them.

As the sounds of the shower filled the apartment, Ariadne sighed, and started making plans on how to get Yusuf passed this. Going away would be simplest; a vacation filled with days among loving friends and nights in each other's arms…

At this thought, she got excited. Maybe they could get the team back together; Fischer Morrow was dissolved with no suspicions, and she longed to see all her friends in the same place again. Plus, she'd just read a mass e mail sent by Eames and written in code that delivered happy -if not shocking- news: _the corn and the tourist sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G_

In other words, Cobb and Saito had gotten together. Ariadne had been so shocked that she'd called Eames up that morning to make sure she hadn't misread the code. He confirmed it, told her the story of how he'd done a little document forging for Saito after the Inception and had caught his employer and Cobb kissing in Saito's office.

Maybe she and Yusuf and Arthur and Eames could go see them, congratulate them.

Feeling better now that she had a direction to go in, Ariadne stood and got to work making plans.

./././././.

"Is that your phone, love?" it'd been ringing incessantly on the bedside table.

"Fuck if I'll answer it now."

"Oh, go on," Eames snorted, "it'll be priceless."

"It could be _work_, Eames."

Eames' laugh was strained through his labored breathing, "Look at you, how do you do that? You're face gets so serious _even while I've got my_-"

In one motioned, Arthur dismounted Eames and was standing by the bed, Eames went to an elbow, only as outraged as he was amused, "A little late to start playing hard to get, darling."

Arthur scooped up the vibrating phone; an eyebrow raised jauntily, his lips parted softly. He looked at the screen and answered, going back to the bed and on top of Eames because apparently it wasn't work. "Arthur here."

"Hey, it's me," Ariadne said, a bit hesitantly because she'd caught on to his strained breathing.

"Yeah," Arthur said, clearing his throat, "what's up?"

"Well, I was wondering what you and Eames were up to."

Arthur laughed from his gut and Eames sat up, grinning, eager to be let in on the joke. Arthur pushed him back down and said, "Well, we don't have any plans that can't be moved around. Why? Do you have anything in mind?"

"Yes, actually," the architect said, "You heard that Cobb and Saito are a thing now, right?"

"Eames has informed me," Arthur said, winking down at his boyfriend. "I lost fifty bucks." Hair mussed by the pillows, Eames smiled; his tongue between his crooked teeth in pride. He pushed his hands up Arthur's thighs and sides, trying to steal his attention, but Arthur batted him away.

"Well," Ariadne was saying on the line with a loud rush of breath and Arthur recognized his friend's excited voice, "I thought, since we've apparently all paired up, it could be fun to meet up somewhere. You know, a kind of triple date."

"Yeah, that could great," Arthur said, thinking it could be fun to have the team all together again. "Do you have a continent in mind?"

"Uh oh, what are you two planning?" Eames asked and Arthur ignored him as Ariadne answered,

"Well, Cobb and Saito are kind of tied to the kids, right? So I thought we could go to them."

"LA's a long way to go for a date," Arthur pointed out. Currently, St. Petersburg was outside his window, and he knew Ariadne to be in Kenya with Yusuf.

"Well, we can make it a week thing or something."

"Okay, when?"

Ariadne supplied a date and Arthur accepted with a grunt on the end because Eames, sensing the end of the call, hadn't waited a moment longer to pick up where they'd left off.

././././.

Saito built a mean sand castle. It towered over James, who was practically shaking with excitement as he was promised he would be allowed to tear it down like Godzilla later. Philippa, with a flare of her father's old talent, helped design it and was doing an excellent job, in all of her seven years, of scalloping the trimmings around the indentations in the wet sand that were supposed to be widows.

Cobb alternated between scooping up rocks and shells to be used in the design and helping James gather the sand. Others on the beach had started to pay attention to what they were doing, calling their friends and children over, "Hey, look at that!" "Whoa, look what they're building!" "That's cool!"

Saito was on his knees in his swimming trunks, the skin of his shoulders and broad back darkening and freckling beautifully under the sun, beads of sweat at his hairline bespeaking of the hours he'd been at this. He was smiling ear to ear, eyes locked in tight focus on the job at hand. It was no wonder to Cobb that Saito was such a good businessman. (Not only did he go to great lengths to get what he wanted, but he dreamed big and never gave up.)

The muscles in his arms rippled under his skin as he dug deeply into the sand, shifting huge piles around as he and Philippa started work on a new wing to their palace. Cobb brought him little plastic pales of sand, dumping it where directed and then going to fetch water to dampen it further. He closed his eyes briefly to enjoy the sun on his face, the happiness of the day as the waves washed around his knees with his children's laughter in his ears.

His phone jangled with his ring tone. He had it in his pockets and was thankful it'd rang when it had, because he'd forgotten he'd stored it there (to save it from becoming part of the castle's decorations) and he'd been about to submerge fully into the ocean to cool himself off. Hauling the buckets back to his children and new boyfriend as quickly as possible, he smiled when Saito turned upon hearing the ring and reached into his pocket to answer it for him.

"Cobb's phone, Saito speaking," he said. Cobb sat the buckets down with little sloshing and took a look at the sea-shell James had found and was proud of. Saito laughed, wiped sweat from his forehead, "Ariadne, how are you?"

Cobb looked over at his friend as the man chuckled with his eyes closed in amusement, "Yes, we realized everyone knew about the time we got the e-mail. Yes, he sent it to us, too. I don't know if it was on purpose or if he forgot to take us off his contact list before hitting Send To All."

Saito caught Cobb's eye, winked. Cobb laughed, remembering the coded e-mail that had outed them. He listened to Saito's side of a conversation that was evidently filled with a mixture of praise and questions. "Thank you…. yes we are very happy…. I don't know yet…. Ah, I'd rather not say…. It is…. Yes, very much so….. On the beach with the children building the BEST sand castle EVER, right Philippa? James? Dom?"

"RIGHT!" they cried, still sufficiently pumped from Saito's rallying pep talk at the beginning of the endeavor. Saito's chuckles bled away as he listened to Ariadne. He frowned and asked, "Are you all not working?... Ah, I see. Oh, well, I should think that would be fun." His expression did not meet his words. He gave Cobb a look that said _save me_. Cobb took the phone,

"What are you up to, Ariadne?" he asked.

"Nothing," she laughed, "I was just telling your _boyfriend_ that all of us are in the country and the same time zone, so maybe it wouldn't be all bad if we all got together for a kind of triple date thing."

"Whoa, wait a minute, who's all of us?"

"Me and Yusuf and the sarcastic flirty twins."

"Ah," Cobb said. James and Philippa started talking loudly, arguing over what to do with the cool shell James had found. Cobb stood and drifted away to a place where he could hear again.

"Come on," Ariadne was egging. "We'll call it a celebration! How amazing is it that every one on the team paired off? It's like it was fate that brought us together."

"Listen," Cobb said, stomach flopping in sick anticipation, "You and Yusuf are going to get married someday and have beautiful babies," he said lowly, "But Arthur and Eames have been off and on again and nothing serious for who knows how long and Saito and me…" he trailed off, turned and looked at the man, smiled unconsciously, "I don't know. We're still new, and..." he shrugged, fished for the word and finally landed on, "Fragile." How could he explain that he didn't want to mess it up?

"Awe!" Ariadne sang, "Look at you moving on and ready to love again with your whole heart!"

"Easy," Cobb begged with a laugh, feeling heat on his cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun.

"Call this the test of friends," Ariadne said, "If you can't be yourselves together with your friends then you know it won't last."

Cobb refrained from pointing out that the team was hardly anything close to the kind of everyday friends that that test was designed for.

Perhaps sensing his hesitation, Ariadne drew in a breath and said lowly, "Please, for me? I'm trying to cheer Yusuf up. He lost a dreamer three days ago and is sinking into depression."

Dammit, how could he say no to that?

"Okay, I'll get a sitter," he sighed. "When and where?"

././././.

Ariadne had asked Yusuf to keep his beard and helped him to tame his curls. He looked fantastic in his suit and she wanted to do more than hold his arm as they made their way to the reserved table waiting for them. They took their seats and Yusuf sighed, "Cobb and Saito, I won't believe it until I see it."

"Arthur said he lost fifty bucks to Eames. I wonder how he knew it was going to happen?"

Yusuf's eyes sparkled and his smile showed white teeth in his dark face, "Ah, Eames is a trickster. I'm sure he had proof long before any of us and made the bet acting like he was taking a risk."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Ariadne laughed, "But surely Arthur would know better than to take a bet against someone like that?"

"You'd be surprised how much Arthur knows better than to do but does anyway," Eames said jovially from behind Ariadne. She jumped and he swooped down to kiss her cheek, "good to see you again, beautiful."

Arthur turned from greeting Yusuf to drop a wink at Ariadne and a low, "You look great."

"For one SHINING example," Eames continued in his original vein, "Me."

He and Yusuf laughed as they embraced and then everyone was seated, Arthur ignoring Eames with excellent ease due to practice, asked Ariadne, "So, you talked to Cobb and Saito?"

"I did."

"and it's true?"

"Very much so, apparently."

Arthur smiled, looking down and shaking his head, "Way to go, Cobb. I didn't know he had it in him."

"I did," Eames boasted, "I knew. A man that gorgeous plays for both teams. Trust me. It's nature, trying his absolute BEST to spread his genes and what have you."

"Listen to yourself," Arthur said, leaning back in his chair and giving his boyfriend an incredulous look, "_How_ is one man sleeping with another man possibly going to _spread his genes_?"

"Well, I'm sure it involves plenty of _spreading his jeans_," Eames said with a wink leaning his chair back onto the hind legs and spreading his legs to indicate the innuendo he meant. Arthur kicked the chair back level, looking around, eyebrows low in that deadly way, "This is nice place, what's the matter with you?"

Eames picked up his menu, chuckling, "Oh, these people could use a little spice in life."

"Not tonight," Ariadne warned. She really, really, _really_ wanted the night to be smooth and wonderful, to help Yusuf. Yusuf was smiling behind his Champaign glass.

"Team A is ganging up on me again, I see," Eames said to his Mombasa neighbor, using his nickname for Arthur and Ariadne combined.

"You are being a little wild, Eames," Yusuf replied, "Are you drunk?"

"Just took the edge off on the way over," Eames said, leaning on his elbows, eyes shining impishly. "I know you did the same, Yusuf. What is that, your third one?"

"Piss off," Yusuf said after a swallow that finished the glass and with a twinkle in his eye that confirmed Eames' remark. Ariadne bit her tongue to refrain from saying anything. Eames was joking lightly about a serious problem. She hated the way Yusuf started drinking so much when things started going wrong. That was why she wanted tonight to be smooth.

Eames suddenly sprang straight in his seat, looking over Ariadne's head and beaming, "Ah, the lovebirds have arrived!"

Ariadne twisted around in time to see a blushing Cobb with gritted teeth shoot a warning look at Eames before casting a generic smile at the whole table. Saito smiled tightly and greeted everyone and they took their seats between Yusuf and Eames across from Ariadne and Arthur. They were both freshly sun-kissed and looking sharp in their suits. Cobb had gotten a haircut since last he saw the team.

Ariadne drew in a deep breath and began, since this whole thing was her idea, "So, we're all together again! It's so good to see you all!"

The others agreed and Cobb asked Eames, "Did you mean to send us that e-mail outing us, Eames?"

Eames' smile showed all his crooked teeth, "Of course I did!"

"He did not," Arthur admitted. "He didn't know what he was doing, sent it to his parents and everything."

The table laughed and Eames defended himself, "I sent it from my phone. Bloody thing makes it impossible to navigate web pages properly."

"The only ones who understand it at all is at this table," Ariadne assured when she saw Saito's surprised and slightly troubled expression. She glanced at Cobb, saw a muscle jumping in his jaw as he sipped his water, darkened blue eyes focused on the modest flower arrangement in the center of the table.

She remembered his hesitation to come here at all and now she thought maybe she understood a little: he and Saito were still a little uneasy with their latest direction change in their personal lives. Being dropped in the middle of a committed relationship like Ariadne and Yusuf and a flamboyant one like Arthur and Eames would shake any newly dating and newly outed men. She hoped she hadn't talked Cobb into risking his first-relationship-since-Mal for her own selfish reasons.

But helping Yusuf, was that selfish? She looked over at him, as he smiled and poured another glass, laughing at Eames' recount of how his mother had replied to the e-mail about corn and tourist's fornicating. He was genuinely laughing, which was a good sign.

Her heart sped up as it still did even after a year and a half with him and then panged painfully at the thought of what he was doing to himself for having lost a dreamer in his shop. She knew in her guts she would do anything to make him happy, even risk Cobb's newfound happiness. (Sorry, Cobb. No honor amongst thieves and all of that.)

./././././.

One thing Eames wasn't saying, as he quoted the hilariously religious things his mother had written him, was that his father had sent a reply as well, a quite detrimental one, actually; Not even Arthur knew about it.

He'd sent, _What's this mean, William? Are you trying to tell me you know?_ And when Eames had questioned that, Eames Sr. had replied with a complete confession. He'd started sleeping with a woman, a German college student who'd been in London as a tourist; they'd met at his work at the museum. _I only did it to get back at your mother for sleeping with her chiropractor._

For having found out only seven days ago that true love and fidelity and all those happy things were complete horse shit, Eames considered himself to be holding up fairly well. And so what if he'd started drinking a little early tonight without an apparent reason? Arthur could sit on it and spin because Eames was going to enjoy himself tonight, amongst the swirling lovebirds.

The way Ariadne looked at Yusuf with all the love in her heart shining on her face, the way Cobb and Saito were bravely sailing into uncharted waters with each other, it was all sickening to the newly disillusioned Englishman. He could see it all, how it would play out down the road:

Yusuf would marry Ariadne and give her three children, two girls too book smart for anyone's good and one boy who would grow up so ruggedly handsome he could barely stand it and then forty one years later out of nowhere, and through e-mails no less, the pair of them would inform him that they were divorcing.

And as for Cobb and Saito, well look out. It was all shy and beautiful now, but judging by the way they sat so awkwardly, Saito was going to bolt once he'd had enough of Cobb's enticing body. No way was he ready to be a second Dad to two French-American kids. Especially a pair that would one day grow up and ask questions about how their mom died and why old news archives said that their dad was the lead suspect in her murder.

Eames wouldn't let his troubles show, though. He was going to have _fun_, dammit, even if it killed him. Hopefully it would.

./././././.

Cobb had never been so uncomfortable in his _life._ He was sitting at a table full of people who'd known him as a broken-hearted, widowed straight man and now they were expecting him to be a happy and in-love-with-a-man man. He didn't know much about that only that Saito made him happy and he was surprisingly and wonderfully excited by the things the man did to him in private. Beyond that, he was lost.

Was it love? He wasn't sure he could love again. He knew he'd like to. Was that enough? He wasn't sure. Was Saito looking for anything more than hot sex? They hadn't talked about it. Would Cobb like him to be looking for more? Maybe, and that was hard enough to admit to himself so he left it at that.

They'd only been together for two weeks. Fourteen days, (four of which Saito had been in Japan and Cobb in LA). Between them there were only five instances of sex, one impromptu day one the beach with the kids, and here they were having a triple date dinner like a serious couple. It felt like he was building a house of cards and opening the window for a fresh breeze.

"So where are the kids?" Arthur asked him. Bless him he knew what Cobb was always happy to talk about.

"Home with a sitter," Cobb answered.

"I'm glad you could find one on short notice," Ariadne said. Cobb nodded, admitted that it was Saito's personal assistant, Itou, that had been roped into the job. Saito had assured Cobb that the young man knew how to handle children when Cobb had tried his best to use his What's Best For the Kids card to get them out of this at the last minute, but Saito had insisted they come tonight.

For that reason alone, Cobb had butterflies in his stomach; did it mean Saito wanted a real relationship?

He found himself avoiding looking at Saito as much as he wanted to, and couldn't help himself enough to own up to his feelings and ogle his lover in front of people. (He'd shamelessly stared at Mal around people when they'd started out and Cobb felt like he was dysfunctional now for not being able to be that person again.) He could feel everyone's eyes on him, waiting for him to show a sign that he and Saito liked to-

He made himself blush and took another sip of his water only to realize it was his forth in under a minute. He sat it down and drew a deep breath, remembering Ariadne's words that if they couldn't be their selves together with their friends then they weren't right for each other. He ignored that the problem was they barely knew how to be themselves together alone, and he cheerfully joined in with the conversation and joking going on as they ordered and their food arrived.

He tried his absolute best to look at Saito steadily whenever he wanted to.

./././././.

Ariadne's heart was pounding. She'd gotten an idea as the food arrived when Yusuf put his napkin in his lap; it was something way outside her comfort zone. But she was willing to do _anything_ for Yusuf, and what she had in mind would definitely help him forget - well, damn near everything.

She discreetly undid the straps of her heel and slipped her foot out. She'd have to use her foot because no way would her arm reach him discreetly. She casually angled herself in her seat so her foot could reach his lap where he sat at the head of the oblong table across from Eames, who sat at the other end.

Keeping her attention on Cobb as he told the table about his children's well-being and what differences he'd found in them upon returning home nearly two years ago, Ariadne's bare foot gently nudged her boyfriend's legs apart and settled on his crotch. His knife and fork clanged together and he sat up straight. He quickly recovered, pretending to be stretching a tricky muscle in his back, shooting her a frantic look.

She allowed herself a smile, but didn't look at him as she rocked her foot against him. He cleared his throat, fingers of one hand skating around her ankle as if making sure it was her, and then he took a generous gulp from his glass and started focusing just a little too hard on his food as he sliced it up. Under the tender arch of her foot, she felt him rising to her attention.

././././.

Eames wasn't listening about the Cobb children. They were cute, but he really did not care beyond knowing they were alive and healthy. He pretended to listen while he was really stewing over the crisis going on in his own family. Did his sisters know? He hadn't called them about it yet, couldn't stomach talking about it.

For all of his crookedness, people naturally assumed he had a broken family, a wrecked childhood. Actually, he came from an extremely wonderful home. Loving, supportive parents, plenty of money, a good education, older twin sisters who taught him how to count cards as they tutored him in maths. He'd chosen the life he had out of sheer love for pretending to be something he wasn't, not because he had no other options, or because he was as screwed up, or anything. Just. Because. And okay, maybe that in itself was screwed up.

One thing he'd always believed in was love and that was because of his parents. They danced in random rooms of the house for God's sake! As a boy, he'd go to bed hearing his mum laughing her ass off down stairs as his father told _art_ jokes. He'd been the best man at a vow renewal thing when he was twenty five and had WEPT at the vows!

And now it was over. Killed. Divorced. This was kind of huge, too huge to keep bottled in. Not that that was going to stop Eames from trying. He had been trying his level best to fuck and gamble and drink his way out of his crisis without facing it. Arthur had no idea about any of it yet because, frankly those activities weren't different from what they always did.

././././.

Cobb was babbling. He wished to God someone would shut him up before Saito found out that he was dating a complete Dad-nerd. No one here really cared this much about his kids. The moment he finally made some kind of point and stopped talking, Eames swooped in changing the topic.

"So how did this start between you two, eh?" he asked, using his fork to motion between them. Everyone perked up at this, new interest alight in their eyes-Yusuf even looked up from the meal he was so engrossed in.

Saito turned to Eames with a grin, "We might ask you how you came to find out about us first."

Eames shrugged, "I saw you two mashed together in your office a few days ago."

Cobb blushed, knowing instantly that Eames had glimpsed their first kiss (and what a kiss it'd been) and he cleared his throat and then tried his best to recover, "Well, it was friendship. We stayed in contact because of limbo and everything and, I don't know." He looked at Saito and fought the urge to look away instantly. "It went from there," he finished with Saito's eyes locking on his.

His mouth was incredibly dry after that sentence. He looked away from his boyfriend to take a sip of water and saw Arthur's eyes follow the glass to his lips and back down. The point man was smirking, reading Cobb's nervousness with ease. Always the guy Cobb could rely on, he changed the subject, shifting the focus entirely off of him and Saito.

"So, Yusuf," he said and the man at the end of the table looked up, eyebrows that had been knitted together as if in great concentration smoothed out and he put on a bland smile as Arthur continued, with a motion to the small woman between them, "Ariadne looks better than ever, what've you been doing to her?"

"The usual molesting while she's Under?" Eames teased with his eyebrows raised.

"More like while I'm under him and _begging_ for it," Ariadne answered, leaning toward her boyfriend. Yusuf made a weird noise right then, Saito's glass clanged with the edge of his plate as he sat it down, Arthur huffed, Eames's eyebrows went up, and Cobb made a kind of laugh, cough thing in surprise. He'd never ever heard Ariadne talk like that but he liked it.

_Everyone_ at that table liked it.

Saito's phone rang just then and Cobb's attention snapped to it as it was pulled from an inner pocket, "Is it Itou?" he asked.

"I'm sure all is fine," Saito assured Cobb with a tight smile as he turned a little away from everyone at the table and took the call lowly in Japanese. Yusuf, after choking up the bite of food that had lodged in his throat, was answering Arthur's inquiry in a voice that started off shaking, but got stronger when he looked at Ariadne, "I suppose all I do is let her know how much I…" he took a breath here, looking at his plate and finished, "need her around."

"Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

Yusuf looked up smiling, nodded, dug into his food like he would like nothing more than to sit there with food in his mouth all night so that he would not be expected to talk. Cobb wondered how this behavior related to his depression. Could he really be so far gone that he would rather not talk to _anyone_?

Saito's Japanese side conversation got tense and Cobb's attention went there. He leaned over, and asked, "Is everything alright with the kids?" Saito glanced at him, smiled, nodded, but then delivered a sharp answer into the phone. Seeing Cobb's expression he said lowly, "It's business, sorry. The children are happy and eating ravioli," he chuckled and returned to Japanese. Feeling disconnected from his children and boyfriend because of the strange rapid syllables, Cobb wished they spoke the same goddamn language.

././././.

Yusuf dressed to the right and Ariadne had by now worked up a very hard ridge down the right side of the crotch of his pants. There wasn't a whole lot she could down with her foot. She wasn't particularly dexterous with it, and she only had the ridge in his pants to play with. She dragged the arch of her foot up and down it, applying pressure and friction at a slow, slow, _slow_ and steady pace.

She watched everything slide away from Yusuf, watched him retreat into himself to keep their little spice of naughtiness under the radar. Clearly he didn't want it to stop, and she didn't either. He grew harder and harder under her ministrations, and she imagined she could feel the heat through his shorts and pants, the pulse of his blood as he ached for her.

She wished they were dining outdoors; it felt a little hot in here.

././././.

Eames was paying Yusuf's strangely silent, tense behavior no mind because he knew Japanese and was finding Saito's side of the conversation _very _intriguing.

_Itou, what is it?... Say again? What do you mean on fire? Did you put it out? Are they okay? How did he get the matches? YOU are the baby sitter, Itou! I gave my word you can handle this and you let a little boy catch his sister's doll on FIRE? What's the matter with you? No, I'm not going to tell him. I asked him to trust me about this-about you! I could fire you for this!_ Oh, no, it's just business. Sorry. The children are happy and eating ravioli. _Why is she crying? She didn't get burned did she? What does a little bit mean? How can two young children be too much for a University graduate?_

It was clear that Saito had no idea he was not the only one at the table that was fluent in his native tongue. Eames did not let it show that he was listening and understanding every word. Meanwhile, Ariadne turned to Arthur, brightly keeping the conversation going after Yusuf's rather strange drop of the ball at his turn to dote on his little architect.

"So," she grinned at Arthur, "what about you and the forger, eh?" she waggled her eyebrows. "Off again, on again, are we going to make up our minds this time?" leaning past Arthur to meet Eames' eyes she urged, "Stick it out?"

Eames' stomach turned as he recalled that his mother and father -the most faithful of all humans- had happily betrayed each other with chiropractors and German revenge sex. He eagerly scooped up his glass and downed it. Beside him, Arthur chuckled in that low, sexy-as-all-hell way of his and, with dimples showing, he shrugged, "Maybe. I don't know, as _incorrigible_ as he is, I wouldn't mind keeping him around a little more consistently."

Arthur looked around at him, his dark eyes locking on Eames' green. The glass in his hand parted from his lips and sank slowly to the table as he forgot, for a moment, absolutely everything. His heart pounded because Arthur had, for the first time in nearly six years, admitted that he wanted Eames to stick around. His throat closed and he looked away, eyes fluttering as he found it hard to breathe.

Ariadne laughed and swatted playfully at Arthur's shoulder, "Awe, you old romantic rogue, you-both of you!" Eames forced a smile and then Saito ended his call. The fierce man turned back to the table with apologies. Cobb leaned into him to ask more questions about his kids and Saito made more reassurances, dropping a hand on the table between their plates as he did. Cobb's hand instantly dropped down onto it.

Eames cleared his throat and excused himself, making rather crass jokes about needing the loo. He tried his best not to run through the dining room as he made his way to the far side.

././././././.

When Saito had absently dropped his hand near Cobb's, the fairer man had instantly captured it to keep it there. He did it because he wanted to hold Saito's hand; they held hands in the car ride over. Why not now? They were supposed to, right? Being lovers and all of that. He had always liked holding hands, letting the world see who was his and who he belonged to. There was absolutely no reason not to do it just because his lover happened to be a man this time. Right?

Saito tugged lightly as if to politely tack his hand back, but Cobb gave a reassuring squeeze, looked at him steadily, _no, I want to hold you_. Saito met his eye only briefly and then looked away, no longer trying to take his hand back but in no way returning the squeeze. Cobb grited his teeth and urged his friend to let go and own up to it.

It was like Ariadne had said, if they couldn't be comfortable together in front of their friends, then what was the point? Cobb might not have known before if he wanted more out of Saito than what he was already getting, but instinctually taking Saito's hand had reminded him of what it had been like to be a part of something bigger than himself, a committed, loving relationship. He wanted it again. And with Saito.

So Saito was just going to have to grow a pair and hold his hand in public.

././././././.

Ariadne knew Yusuf wouldn't come like this, but she also knew it was driving him completely wild. (When she'd made the comment about begging for him, he'd literally _quaked_ over there in his chair.) It was quite thrilling, wasn't it? Sex in public, it wasn't even over and she knew it was definitely something she'd like to try again.

Yusuf's pupils were dilated. He was fighting very hard to keep his breathing normal, which was why he was not speaking. His pelvis was making tiny thrusts into her foot that she was sure he couldn't control and when she adjusted her foot so as to rub her big toe around the head, he dropped a hand under the table and grabbed her ankle. She resumed her previously set pace, and his fingertips pressed a line of marks into her calf.

When Eames left for the restroom and Arthur and Satio fell into conversation about Proclus Engineering, Ariadne left Cobb to enjoy his meal and met Ysusf's eye. He tried not to look at her, at first, but when he did, it was so unexpectedly _predatory_, the way a lion might look as he stood over a fresh kill, gazing up through his eyes lashes, already prepared to pounce again.

Her heart sped up at the sight-Yusuf had such _amazing_ dark chocolate bedroom eyes-and her panties got significantly damper. She cleared her throat and looked away, landed in the middle of business talk she didn't understand and scrambled to pick up conversation with Cobb.

"So how's Professor Miles?" - WHOA. She hadn't meant to grab something that only intensified her predicament. (Yes, Ariadne had a thing for older intellectual British types who smiled and gave kind hugs.) She hiccupped and clamped her mouth shut, fingers going apologetically to her lips to disguise the noise as a kind of burp thing.

Cobb grinned and answered that the old man was still teaching, philandering with teaching assistants, and generally being the best European grandfather any children could ask for. Ariadne's thigh was burning from the exertion of one continuous motion, but she wouldn't stop. Not when Yusuf's grip on her leg was trembling in a most delicious way.

./././././././.

Eames loosened his tie and leaned over the sink, heart pounding excruciatingly too fast in a panic attack. He hadn't had one since he was a kid, used to get them all the time. He splashed cold water on himself and tried to remember that he wasn't going to die. Another man in the bathroom asked if he was alright and he nodded, insisted all was well, nothing he couldn't handle and the man left.

Alone in the bathroom, Eames drew a deep breath and focused on his reflection. He didn't see himself, he saw Arthur, looking at him with dimples on display (they so rarely were because his Serious Face had top priority). He heard his low, sheepish voice, _I wouldn't mind keeping him around a little more consistently._

"What's it called?" Eames asked aloud with creases between his eyebrows. What was it called when your deepest darkest wish was granted right after you decided you didn't believe in it anymore? It had to be called something. Irony, or whatever. Fuck if he ever paid that much attention in English class.

Except for when Mr. Kenworth had taught Shakespeare, _look out Romeo_.

Eames pressed on his eyes and pushed his first homosexual (and underage) sexual experience out of his head. Not _now_. He splashed more cold water on his face and set to pacing. Arthur wanted to give it a real go this time. That's what he'd meant. Oh, this was big. Was it lovely? Yes and no.

Yes-God yes-because no one got under his skin and made him ache as much as that smart ass point man did, but also no because… Well, because it would fucking _hurt_ if he gave this his all and it fell apart five, ten, forty years down the road. If not even Cornelius and Samantha Eames could stay together then everyone was fucked. Love didn't last. It couldn't -human nature ripped it to shreds. Human nature needed its space, dragged in extraneous lovers, incepted devastating ideas into each other, the works.

It all ended in pieces.

Eames ducked into a stall when his eyes started to sting and the door opened. He pressed his lips together and refused to let the tears come. The man did his business at the urinal, _barely_ washed his hands, and left. Eames stayed in the stall, leaning on the tiled wall with his eyes pressed into his fore arm.

He needed a fucking drink.

././././././././.

Saito's hand was limp under Cobb's as Cobb continued to tell an enraptured Ariadne all about his father in law. She was asking a lot of questions, genuinely interested. The little woman was leaning forward in her seat, lips parted, eyes focused like she was eagerly soaking up every word; it was kind of freaking him out.

He glanced at Yusuf, who didn't seem to notice anything beyond his plate, and then at Arthur, who was listening to Saito's recount of how amazingly smooth business has been for him now that Fischer Marrow was no longer in the way; (they'd continued expanding in Africa, had opened up in Sydney, business was booming.)

He was holding Saito's hand with his left and Cobb needed it to wield the knife so he could finish his food. Not wanting to pull away from the man's touch entirely, he slid their joined hands off the table and dropped Saito's hand on his knee. Instantly, the hand retreated, but Cobb caught it and put it back, patted it as a silent command to leave it there, and then went to eating. (Saito just had a salad and could eat it left handed easily enough.)

He was somewhat surprised when it stayed there, but Saito's lack of enthusiasm was disheartening. His heart was pounding more than it should due to the fact that he was in a restaurant with another man's hand on his knee. Mal had sat with her hand on his knee in public before, plenty of his girlfriends had before her as well. A man doing it was no different, right? It felt no different, the same warm comfort of being claimed, wanted, connected. It wasn't insecurities that troubled his pulse into a race, it was the sheer _newness_ of it.

But he sensed the tension in Saito who probably wasn't used to PDA even with women. It was just a hand on a knee, a tiny step above a hand on a hand. No big deal. Cobb telepathically sent orders to his partner to relax and enjoy himself.

A lull in the conversation led to Saito asking -having missed when Arthur asked earlier because he'd been on the phone, "Yusuf, are you well?"

The man looked up, oddly tense. He straightened his spine, shook out his shoulders, put on a smile, "Never better, actually."

"You have been very quiet."

"Good food," Yusuf answered, adding another, "_Good_," for emphasis that seemed a little out of place.

"How has the shop been?" Saito asked. Cobb dropped his knife, reached down and squeezed Saito's hand as if that was the button to make the man take back what he'd said. He hadn't told him what Ariadne had shared during her call and suddenly wished he had. But Yusuf released a long sigh and answered, "Oh, you know, the same old puttering around and dreaming."

"A cat had kittens!" Ariadne said in what to Cobb was a blaring obvious detour in the conversation. "You know how there are hundreds of strays running around that place," she said with a wave of her hand, "You'd think we'd find kittens all the time but we don't usually."

"Ari has taken them all in, of course," Yusuf said, adding to Ariadne, "And sweet, you can't call them strays when you feed them every day and have full names for all of them."

"I don't give them full names, you wanker," Ariadne said, bating at him playfully. He laughed, winked at her, scooted his chair in closer to the table, and she hiccupped, rather loudly this time.

"Where's Eames?" Arthur asked, twisting around to look toward the bathrooms.

Saito pulled his hand out of Cobb's and pushed his chair back, "I could actually use a trip myself. How about I become the search team?"

Arthur laughed, nodded. Saito stood, now free hand flexing and Cobb, upon seeing it, got the sense that Saito was going simply to put an end to the hand-on-his-knee thing. He returned to his food, stomach knotting and he wished he could just go home and be a dad. At least he knew how to do _that_ right.

././././././.

Suddenly gaining a competitive streak somewhere in the middle of all that talk about kittens, Yusuf had kicked off the shoe of his right foot and now had his socked foot up the skirt of her dress, the ball of his foot right under his big toe rocking against an already excited enough place.

Was this normal?

Ariadne had no idea what was normal. She had a man's foot between her legs, her bare foot still stroking him through his trousers while expensive food and clothing all around were none the wiser. His leg was now stretched along the inside of hers, the fabric of his pants rubbing softly against the bare skin of her leg.

Her thigh was _aching_, but he was still holding her leg and was doing a little to help her hold it up as she moved her foot on him. She tried not to look down into her lap, where his foot rocked against her in a matching rhythm, and, _Christ_, how had he been keeping his cool for this long?

She stayed leaned forward with her weight on an elbow on the table. Screw it if wasn't good manners, this posture kept her breasts blocking the view of her lap that Arthur would have if he were to look over, where he'd certainly see something _moving_ _under her dress_. She dropped a hand and gripped Yusuf's toes, but it didn't stop him. Not that she wanted him to stop. She did, but she didn't. It was beautiful agony.

Arthur and Cobb had picked up the conversation thread since Yusuf and Ariadne were both being so quiet. They talked (with a few vague pronouns here and there) of the recent jobs Arthur and Eames had gotten up to. Then Cobb told about the architecture firm he'd started to work for. It paid the bills. Nothing as exciting as shared dreaming, of course, blah blah blah.

_Nothing as exciting as what's going on under the table_, Ariadne thought.

./././././././.

Eames gave a start when Saito's voice sounded right outside his stall door, "Eames, are you alright?"

"Wha-?" he started and his voice cracked and he forced a laugh, "Of course, darling, I'm peachy."

Saito chuckled, his voice drifting over to the urinals, "I hope you aren't up to anything too private in here."

At that Eames really did laugh. He flushed the toilet, just because, and came out of the stall pretending to be doing up his pants. "What's this? You think I'm rubbing one off?"

"We were getting suspicious at the table; you left in a hurry and are taking your time."

"_You_ _filthy minded animal_!" Eames purred in true delight, going to the sink to wash his hands. He saw in the mirror that his tie and top two buttons were still undone, his hair a mess from when he'd ran a hand through it without even realizing. He cleared his throat and set about straightening up as if it was normal for a man to look like this having been up to nothing in particular in a bathroom stall.

Saito finished at the urinal and drifted to the sink in the wake of the sound of fast moving water. He was frowning as he noticed the disheveled nature of the Englishman.

"You do not look _peachy_," he said.

With his full mouth in a very serious line, Eames' eyes slid over to meet Saito's in the reflection and he answered, "I'm fine."

Washing his hands, the other man asked, "Is everything alright with you and Arthur?"

"Is everything alright with Itou and the kids? No more fires, I hope." Eames countered, turning to face the businessman with a challenge in his eye. Saito gave a start and dried his hands, "You are filled with surprises, Mr. Eames."

"I try," he replied. He crossed his arms, "I am curious why you haven't told Cobb that he's needed at home. Jealous of the attention he gives his kids, are you?"

"Never," Saito said, "I simply do not want the night to be ruined. Cobb has been on edge about it."

"You're not worried he'd be pissed that you didn't tell him about a fire his son started?"

"It was minor, no one was hurt. Had Cobb heard about it, he'd of used it to insist on going home where he would have been unable to do anything more than Itou has already done to handle it. The whole night would have been derailed for nothing."

"Sounds like Cobb doesn't want to be here."

"Neither of us do," Saito admitted with a shrug.

"That hurts, Saito," Eames said, dramatically grabbing his chest. "So what's the problem, why not leave with him and be shot of us all?"

"We have something to prove," Saito answered.

"Curious, since you haven't looked at him, or touched him since arriving."

Saito's eyes narrowed, "Our business is between me and him, Mr. Eames."

"And I'll thank you to leave my business with Arthur between him and me."

Saito shrugged and made a motion to insist Eames leave the bathroom first. He really didn't want to, would rather stay in here until he had his swirling thoughts sorted, but he couldn't very well say that so he went when bade. They left the bathroom together, Eames wearing a brave face.

Right, playing pretend. It wasn't like he wasn't thumping good at it anyway.

./././././././.

Cobb glanced beyond Arthur and saw both Saito and Eames returning from the bathrooms. The sight of Saito brought a smile to Cobb's lips and that alerted Arthur to turn and take a look. Halfway through the dining room, Eames swiftly turned right around and hurried back into the restroom. Seeing this, Arthur murmured, "What the hell?" and left the table to check on his boyfriend.

The point man passed Saito without a word, and the businessman continued toward the table. He opened his mouth, perhaps to explain Eames' strange behavior, but just then his phone rang again. He pulled it out with an apology, glanced at the phone and excused himself, continuing on passed the table toward the bar to take the call.

Knowing for a fact that it was Itou calling again, Cobb stood and followed him, determined to take his turn talking to the baby sitter and then maybe saying goodnight to his kids over the phone since they would be going to bed before he got home.

./././././.

Abruptly, Ariadne and Yusuf were the only one left at the table. They didn't mind at all. Yusuf was really grinding the ball of his foot into her now and with the absence of an audience, she allowed a low gasp that wouldn't be heard by neighboring tables, "God, Yusuf," she purred at him.

He grinned, eyes fluttering, "You started it."

"And you _win_," she said through her teeth.

"You bet I do," he said in that pouncing lion way, a wink.

"_God,_" she said again, leaning back in her chair and pushing her pelvis into his foot. Her foot slid from his lap, his pleasure completely forgotten in her own. He massaged her in little circles, not too hard, not too light. Her body wept and wept for him, growing slicker, thicker, hotter. She leaned forward onto her elbows again, crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and hoped she wouldn't start shaking or moaning. She swallowed everything down, forgot to breathe.

With a jerk and something half like a word and half like an exclamation point, Ariadne straightened, reining in the moment, and closing her thighs on his foot. (Her legs had started spreading more and more of their own accord as pleasure pulsed through her, the tight skirt of her dress creeping up her thighs to accommodate for it. Had she allowed that to continue, she'd have been sitting in a rather obscene way in no time.)

When her legs closed on his foot, he dug his big toe in and she hiccup/gasped, hand flying to her mouth. She wanted to scream. She wanted to crawl over the table and have her way with Yusuf. A moment later, she had only her breath to speak on, "Okay, stop, stop, stop," she begged. He did, chuckling warmly and leaning forward across the table, reaching for her hand, "Let's go somewhere and get you sorted."

"Right now?" She tried not to shift around too much in her seat like she wanted to do because of the hot mess in her underwear.

"Why not? Everyone else is busy," Yusuf said, wagging his eyebrows. He jerked a head back toward the reception area, "Come with me to the coat check room and I'll clean up the mess I made," his dark eyes dropped to her lap and back up. A blush spread from where he wanted to put his mouth to her forehead. (Ariadne blushed with the whole front of her body.)

"This is supposed to be about _you_, though," she admitted. "I wanted you to have fun with your friends and forget-you know, everything. I just want you to be happy more than anything."

His teasing manner fell away. With a blink his bedroom eyes were kind Yusuf's eyes again. He gave her a little smile, "I know. And I appreciate it. But you don't have to call people in from around the world for extravagant dinner dates to make me happy."

She looked down at the implication that he resented being dragged out of Africa for a five star American restaurant. His fingers caught her chin and pulled her face back up. His smile was bright and filled with the kind of love he only ever whispered about between sweet nothings and forever when they were together in their bed. His hand cupped the side of her face, thumb stroking her cheek. She put her own hand over it and nuzzled into his touch.

././././././.

Coward. Eames hung his head over the sink, hated himself. He'd thought he could do it; put on a mask and pretend his way out of this. But the moment he'd seen Arthur, twisted around in his seat and smiling at the sight of him, he'd panicked. _I wouldn't mind keeping him around a little more consistently._

It was all that he used to pretend he didn't want.

This thing he had with Arthur, this twisted we're-best friends-and-a-little-more-than-friends-but-don't-get-too-excited-because-I-can-live-without-you-watch-me-I'll-prove-it THING between them had been torturing him for years. And now it was over, with one little sheepish admission, disguised to be a whole lot less serious than it actually was. _I wouldn't mind keeping him around more consistently. I wouldn't mind keeping him._

Eames wouldn't mind being kept. But what happened later? What happened when he, Eames, was finally used up and ruined for all others and then Arthur moved on? It was going to happen. In reality good things never lasted. In time, even the best things crumbled to dust. Eames wasn't sure he could stand living in a place like that.

"What's up?" Arthur suddenly asked from directly behind Eames. He jumped up, whirled around to face the younger, neater man. Arthur. Arthur, who was the complete opposite of Eames in that he came from a broken home, he dropped out of school, he had no other options than to do what he did. He was damn good at it; he was smart; he was used to change and getting what he wanted. He would never really commit to a loose end like Eames.

"My parents are getting a divorce!" Eames answered all at once.

"What?" Arthur asked with a grimace of surprise and Eames, pacing, spilled all about the joke e-mail and how his father had confessed to sleeping with a tourist after getting it.

Arthur winced, one eyebrow going up, a smirk in his eyes, "_Cornelius_," he said, naming Eames' father. He huffed, "The corn and the tourist. That was an unfortunate coincidence, wasn't it?"

"This isn't FUNNY!" Eames cried. Arthur started, held up his hands but Eames was pulling at his tie again, "They were fucking _perfect_, Arthur! I don't understand how they could let things just…" he lost his voice. His eyes pricked and he needed to be gone. Anywhere but here. He drew in a deep, steadying breath, headed for the door. "Anyway, this's been fun, darling. Maybe I'll see you around."

"What?" Arthur asked and he turned, ran and cut Eames off at the door, holding it closed. His expression now was dangerous, eyebrows low, dark eyes boring into him, "_What_? Eames, are you breaking up with me?"

"Might as well put an end to it now," Eames said. "We'll be wasting our time otherwise."

"The hell we would!" Arthur snapped shoving Eames with a flat hand on the center of his chest when he stepped forward to pull the door open anyway.

"You _always leave_, Arthur," Eames said. "For the past five bloody years you've been coming and going. It's been eight weeks-that's about the average time, isn't it? Okay, then, see you next time."

"Fuck you," Arthur breathed, no venom, jaw slack in hurt, "I left all those times because it was never anything serious. And I wasn't sure what I wanted then anyway!"

"Oh and you know now, is it?" Eames asked acidly.

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Arthur answered. He said it so simply, so resolved that Eames had to roll his eyes to break the integrity of the moment and he reached for the door again. (Arthur was little enough that Eames could open the door with Arthur in the way if he wanted.)

"Big strong words but you don't really mean them, do you?"

Arthur was suddenly in his face, expression going hard, one sharp finger jabbed into Eames' chest, "Hey, _I'm not your parents_," he said. He blinked, face breaking into something soft, and he added, "I _keep_ the promises I make."

"You haven't made any." Eames said.

"I could," Arthur answered. Their faces were close, and Eames had never seen Arthur being so _open_. The younger man spoke barely over a whisper, hands gripping the lapels of Eames' jacket, pulling him in, "I could promise you my whole heart."

Eames gulped, "You could?"

"Do you want it?"

"God, yes."

Arthur kissed him. It wasn't his fun, hard, I'm-going-_own_-you kisses; this was his tender, delicious, good-morning-I'm-going-to-take-my-time kisses. Eames trapped the slender frame in front of him in his arms and pulled them all the way together, Arthur's arms going up and over his shoulders.

A phone rang in a stall far to their right.

The jangling bells were killed halfway through and a moment later, the stall door clicked and swung open and a complete stranger stepped out, wide eyed and holding up his hands.

"I'm so sorry!" he said.

He wasn't looking directly at them; his neck and the top of his head were red. He hurried past them to the door, murmuring, "I could have left, but I didn't want to interrupt. Honestly, I was trying not to eavesdrop…" he pulled the door open, still not looking at them and gave a final, awkward grunt of, "but uh, congratulations-or whatever."

And then he was gone.

Arthur and Eames, who had sprung apart at realizing they had company, looked at each other, wide eyed, and then they burst out laughing. It felt so good for Eames to laugh right then that it _hurt_. He took Arthur's face in both hands and pulled him in, still laughing, "Did we just advance our relationship to a serious level in a men's bathroom?"

"Hey," Arthur chuckled, "We were never _conventional_, sweet cheeks."

The nickname brought color to Eames' face, and he closed his eyes, "What did I tell you about calling me that when you aren't tied up?"

"I am tied up. In you."

Eames roared with laughter, headed for the door, "SO CHEESY!"

Arthur shoved him, got to the door first. "Cheesy?" he asked, beaming, "You want to talk about cheesy? How's this for cheesy, huh? A forty year old man in a karaoke bar singing _I Just Can't Help Falling In Love With You,_ stone cold sober, with actual _tears_ running down his cheeks!"

"Is _that_ never talking about it again?" Eames warned as he slipped through the door, " I told you I was in a weird place that month."

"You had your period, I know. Blah blah blah,"

"Piss off."

./././././.

Saito smiled when he turned at the touch on his arm to find Cobb. He said in English past his phone, "The children are just going to bed."

"I want to say goodnight," Cobb said with a motion to the phone. Saito said a few words to Itou and handed the phone over.

"Daddy!" James greeted in his ears and Philippa echoed him on speaker phone.

"Hey guys," he said, "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," they chorused.

"Okay, go to bed and behave now," he said, "I'll be home later after you're asleep. Goodnight."

"Night, Daddy."

"I love you guys."

"We love you, too!" they sang together with cackles and then the connection died. Cobb saw the screen had a capture of the day on the beach on it, the finished castle with Cobb and his kids in front of it. He smiled and handed it back to Saito.

The man took it and Cobb turned to head back to the table but Saito stopped him, "About earlier…"

Cobb knew he meant the hand holding thing and he suddenly wished he could just leave and then he made himself meet Saito's eyes and say, "It's just hand holding, Saito, alright?"

"I am not comfortable with it."

"Are you ashamed?" Cobb demanded. Saito's look said he wasn't going to justify that with an answer. He tugged at his jacket, "I think I would prefer if we had an agreement more like what Mr. Eames and Arthur have. They do not touch when they are not alone."

"But I like to show affection," Cobb said. It didn't come out as a whine. It _didn't_. "And I like to have affection _shown_ to me. It's like I don't know what you're thinking when you won't look at me or touch or anything." He could look high and mighty all he wanted, Cobb was starting to think Saito was ashamed.

"I am thinking that we will have time for all of that later," Saito replied tightly. His short temper was at its edge. He grinned, dissolving the tension, "and I show you affection in my own ways. I bought you that suit."

Cobb did look drop dead sexy in fabric expensive enough to put his kids through a top private school for a year. The look in Saito's dark eyes as he looked the suit over promised that he bought the suit and would happily take it off him later. They stood in silence for a moment and Cobb asked suddenly,

"Is this going somewhere?"

"Immediately?" Saito teased, shook his head, "I do not approve of indecent behavior in public-"

"No," Cobb cut in with a blush and a laugh. He hadn't been talking about the stare. "I meant _us_." He cleared his throat, forced himself to meet Saito's eye and laid the line. "I can't do casual. Not with my kids to look after."

Saito blinked, jaw slackened in surprise.

Cobb felt sick. The long and happy day the Cobb family had spent on the beach with Saito had been fun, but an impromptu thing that Cobb hadn't meant to happen. He would have liked to keep his kids out of it, but Saito had arrived unexpectedly in the country and had just sort of tagged along in plans Cobb had already made.

As fun as it was, Cobb wished he hadn't allowed it. Had Saito never met the kids this could have been a wholly separate thing, Cobb's private business where he could have chosen to keep it casual. But he no longer had that option now that his kids would be asking when they could build castles with Saito-san again.

Saito glanced around as if to make sure they would not be overheard and caught Cobb's blue gaze with a smile, "I have spent my whole life with women; I would not have blundered into anything with a man _lightly_." He chuckled, adding, "Especially when there is a cherished friendship at risk."

His word choice of _cherished_ made Cobb blush; God, practically everything about Saito made him blush. Ever since being with Saito for the first time (a hazy experience filled with an excess of alcohol, some intense philosophical discussion, and gut wrenching tenderness) Cobb had felt like a teenager who just experienced the realities of sex and remembered it every single time he saw the girl who'd pitied him into a first lesson. Saito was beaming at him, delighted by the color he was showing, "Shall we return to our friends?"

./././././.

Ariadne and Yusuf's friends arrived back at the table at the same time; all four of them smiling like they'd heard the best news in the world. The team finished their meals with Yusuf being significantly more talkative (now that so much blood wasn't being redirected from his brain to his shorts), Eames refraining from the indelicate jokes and comments (now that he wasn't feeling so alone in the face of personal tragedy), and Cobb and Saito loosening up (now that they'd actually discussed their relationship) and letting the others see that yes, the corn and the tourist _were_ sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N-G.

They never touched, but Saito was not shy in talking about Cobb with affectionate tones and Cobb pretty much stayed red in the cheeks the whole time. Arthur and Eames, (after a quick exchange of, "Can I say?" - "No." - "Oh go on, lemme tell them. I'm _dying_ it was so funny!" - "Fine"), had a story to tell about some poor sod they'd trapped in the bathroom while they'd dealt with some things. True to Eames' nature, he let it sound like the said things were more physical than emotional in nature.

"And then he congratulated us," Arthur snorted.

Saito (who didn't approve) had been trying not to be amused, but failed at that point, breaking down into fits of laughter with the rest of the table. Ariadne and Yusuf exchanged expressions of barely contained smugness, because they'd gotten away with their own indecency right under everyone's noses without being congratulated.

Then, after the check, they made promises to get together again for something fun before the week was up and two pairs plus Saito would skip back to their respective continents. Then each couple made their way back to their hotel rooms.

Cobb and Saito got a room as well; the kids being at Cobb's place they weren't going to go there. They went in Saito's car, the reserved man took advantage of tinted windows and showered affection on Cobb in ways that made him forget his name, and then in their room, Saito proved he was just as good at taking suits off as he was at buying them. He also proved that Cobb wasn't so old as being a full time father made him sometimes feel and that there was, in fact, nothing at all about sodomy that he was ashamed of.

Arthur and Eames headed to their hotel on foot, a rare occasion of walking arm-in-arm brought on by a fresh promise between them. At first, Eames still had some talking he needed to do about his parents. "God, I'm so fucking _angry_ with them!" and then those confessions bled into others, "I'm scared _shitless_, right now Arthur," and "I'm crazy for you," and from there, Arthur started humming _I Can't Help Falling In Love With You_, and Eames started laughing, and when they finally made it to their room, they took their time making love. It had to be called that and not hot sex, because the usual profanity was replaced that night with other things, pleas and promises, and a few tears that weren't funny now being shed nowhere near a karaoke bar.

Ariadne and Yusuf took a cab, and-bloody-step-on-it-please; tangling up in the back so that the cabbie gave them a warning not to mess up his seats. And then they were falling into the hotel bed ten minutes later in a rain of kisses and whispers on hot breathes, "Oh, _god_, how I love you."

He pulled her tiny frame up the bed easily, and they stripped and kicked and wriggled and laughed their clothes away. Yusuf, going heavily to his haunches before her, made a show of catching her left foot and planting an open-mouthed kiss on the tender arch, murmuring against it, "You have a torture device here, my love."

"How'd we go this long without knowing the pleasures of feet?" Ariadne giggled.

"No bloody idea," Yusuf growled, kissing down her leg to her knee, down her thigh to her body. She tugged on his head so he would keep the kissing coming up toward her mouth where she wanted him. She smiled when their noses bumped but he kept his lips to himself. After a long line of caressing her body with them, he suddenly was denying her access, "What?" she asked, tangling her fingers in his hair-so much softer than even her own.

He studied her for a moment more, dark eyes shining, "Thank you."

She stroked his face, nodded, and he continued, gripped her hip and pulled her close, "I don't know what I would do without you, Ariadne."

"You don't have to worry about it," she said. "I'm here."

**F I N**


End file.
